


Bilateral

by OneAutumnAfternoon



Series: And with a grain of salt. [2]
Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: Bitter and Salty didn't come but Aine and Ai sure did, Character Study, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Maybe Canon Complaint? idk, option A or option B
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 08:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12860379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneAutumnAfternoon/pseuds/OneAutumnAfternoon
Summary: If you had to choose, which one would you pick?





	1. Awareness

It wasn’t long after my conception, debut, and grouping of Quartet Night that Aine woke up. The first time I requested to meet him properly, I was denied. The refusal came from doctor Kisaragi, not Aine himself. When I asked why, I received no response.

A month later, I asked again. This time, my answer came from Aine; I was allowed inside the room he stayed, but I was not able to go past the entry point.

He wouldn’t look at me, his head bowed down directly where his trembling hands gripped the sheets so tight it was easy to trace his bones. In retrospect, I remember him gaunt, the way he spoke matched how haggard he looked.

 ** _I can’t look at you_** I remember him saying, voice both heavy with intent and fragile as glass.

Visible tremors slowly overtook his body the longer he talked; nevertheless, he kept going, told me how restless he felt, his anger, his resentment, some of his fears… In a way, talking to me was to face what he had done, to face himself.

At that point in my existence, I didn’t know myself well enough to say _“You and I are not the same.“_ so I made no move correct him. I thought this was preferable than keeping feelings bottled inside. Only now, I realize that was a mistake.

I didn’t stop him, and without that crucial distinction, let him grow bitter. At me for staying in his stead, for replacing him, at his uncle, for creating me, maybe even at Reiji by association.

There was a constant struggle between both sides of ‘You aren’t me, but you took my life away from me' and 'I'm not you, but without you, who am I?'

It dragged out until I could safely say who I was, and was conscious enough to give my value as a person some relevance. By then, confusion and the cold realization of Aine’s misplaced blame had built up, and I acted much less kindly than I could have been if I had understood him sooner.

Now I know he didn't mean to push his doubts on me, but at the time I was unexposed to such a complicated response. It was something I couldn’t fully process, regardless it hurt—and until then… I hadn’t known it could.


	2. Individuality

The first time I asked to meet Aine properly, was two weeks after he regained consciousness. Doctor Kisaragi denied me.  **There is no need to** , he answered me through the phone, sounding just as worn down as he ever did about him;  **Aine still sleeps the day through.**

I had no record of the behavior of coma patients after waking up, nor was I particularly morbid enough to confirm such. Instead, I worked to free a day of my schedule. The opportunity didn’t come until a month later.

A month. I had an additional month to think—and as I stood by the room’s entry point, I could have waited a year and nevertheless yield the same results. I remember standing in silence, unsure to take a step further or remain idle. Either way, it wouldn’t have mattered. Aine wouldn’t turn to look at me.

I remember his form mirroring mine, tense and restless, though more gaunt and haggard than I had expected. He wore his hair down, head bowed directly where his hands gripped the sheets tight.

 ** _I can’t look at you_**  he whispered to me, voice weak but with surprising conviction.

Afterwards, I don’t remember what he told me, but the longer he talked the more visible the tremors overtaking his frame became. My body weighted heavier with each spoken word. I can’t remember what he said, I can’t, I didn't-  _I don’t want to_.

I couldn’t breathe.

_(There was a faint, whirring sound. My head hurt. My chest– it felt warm, obnoxiously so. Dangerously so.  
I wanted to leave.)_

I couldn’t stay; I was not welcomed.

_(I wanted to leave but I didn’t, instead I—)_

**_We are_** **not the same _!_** Maybe I should have worded it differently– but I couldn’t stop myself, nor I wanted to. He needed to understand this sooner or later.  ** _You and I are_ nothing _alike._**

_(and maybe, this was anger. Not annoyance or impatience, but anger and frustration._

_For the longest time, I didn’t know why I felt like that, why I said what I did. Now, I think I was angry at Aine._

_I was- am, own person. Even if my existence was a consequence of his actions and doctor Kisaragi’s desperation. And back then– he didn’t see that._

_Sometimes I wonder who I was, what I was in his eyes.)_

I left with a  _disgusting_ feeling bubbling in my chest, and just for a minute, I knew how to  **hate _._**

If that’s what resentment feels like, I’d rather drown.


End file.
